


Five Times Someone Walked In On Isco and Alvaro

by WhiteWolfCraft



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteWolfCraft/pseuds/WhiteWolfCraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And the one time they stayed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Someone Walked In On Isco and Alvaro

  
**1.** **Iker Casillas**  


The weather was hot in Los Angeles, the sun blazing, not a single cloud disturbing the blue sky. The heat was almost unbearable, even for those used to warm weather. Real Madrid’s training sessions were schedules in the mornings and evenings, the heat then just bearable enough to run around in for drills and scrimmages.

The afternoons were reserved for naps or leisure time. It allowed the Real Madrid captain to catch up with the team, getting to know the new additions and to hear what everybody did during their holidays. He had a system in place for this, as he felt it was part of his duties as captain. He would first catch up with the senior players before checking in on the new players, to see if everything was in order. If it was, he would retreat to his own room to Skype with Sara or to take a nap right away.

 

It was an unusually hot afternoon, halfway through their America tour, and Iker’s shirt clung to his back, making him resolve to take another shower before his nap. The leather couch stuck uncomfortably against the bare skin of his legs and he checked the time, deciding that it was time to check in on the new players.

“I’m heading upstairs,” he said, getting up from the couch with an awful squelching noise. He grimaced at the sound, ignoring Sergio’s not so quiet snickers and Xabi’s disapproving frown.

“You going to check up on the youngsters?” Sergio asked when he was done snickering.

“Don’t call them youngsters, it is degrading,” Iker frowned at his vice-captain who just gave him a broad grin, the only player not bothered by the heat.

“Everybody who is younger than me is a youngster, nothing degrading about it,” Sergio said and Iker felt a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, at least try to not call them youngster in their face?” Iker asked.

“I’ll try,” Sergio grinned, teeth bared and Iker shook his head. He caught Xabi’s gaze and gave the other man a nod, leaving the recreation room they were sitting in.

He took the stairs to the floor where their rooms were, swiping sweat from his forehead, longing for a cold shower. Almost all the doors were closed and Iker decided not to disturb the players behind those doors, guessing that they were most likely asleep or just wanting some privacy.

There were two doors ajar and Iker knocked on the one closest to him, pushing it further open when he got a response. Jesé was sitting on his bed, tapping away on his laptop, the other bed was empty. The young striker looked up when Iker stuck his head around the door.

“Everything okay?” Iker asked, noticing the frown Jesé was sporting.

“Yeah, nothing wrong,” Jesé smiled, the frown disappearing.

“Alright,” Iker smiled back. “Isn’t Alvaro supposed to room with you?”

“He went to Isco’s,” Jesé’s explained, waving his hand around. “He got annoyed by my typing,” Jesé continued with a little snort.

“I’ll let you be then,” Iker nodded at Jesé and closed the door behind him. Iker liked the young striker. He added, together with the other promoted Castilla players, some youthful energy to the team.

He continued down the hallway. There was a burst of laughter coming from Cristiano’s room and Iker was tempted to knock on the door to see what they were doing but resisted. He would probably get sucked into whatever the guys were doing and he was really looking forward to a shower and to Skype with Sara.

He reached the other door that was ajar, realising it was Isco’s room, and he knocked softly, pushing the door open without getting an answer. He wished he hadn’t when he took in the room. Alvaro and Isco were on what Iker guessed was Isco’s bed, Isco laying on top of Alvaro. They were kissing, Alvaro’s hand tangled in Isco’s hair and Iker backed out of the room before he could notice more details and before they noticed him.

He closed the door behind him without a sound, to stop anyone else from stumbling across them, and hurried to his own room.

He quickly stripped in the bathroom, stepping under the cold spray of the shower, trying to force the image of Isco and Alvaro out of his head. He didn’t care whether they were together or not, he didn’t have to right to judge them, no one had, but he really could do without seeing them kissing.

He shook his head and stepped out of the shower, drying off quickly and slipping into boxers. He returned to his room and sat down on his bed with his laptop, waiting for Skype to load. He smiled when he saw Sara online and he started a video call, forgetting all about Alvaro and Isco when a smiling Sara came into view.

 

 

 

  
**2.** **Jesé Rodríguez**  


Isco’s place was the best place for FIFA tournaments. He had a huge TV to which the PlayStation was hooked up and his collection of slightly mismatched sofas was strong enough to host several adult football players and the occasional wrestle matches.

It wasn’t uncommon for Isco to invite a bunch of guys over to play FIFA. It made for good team-bonding evenings and it was a good way to relax a little with the rocky start to the season. It was mostly the younger guys on the team as Isco felt most comfortable with them.

 

It was one of the FIFA tournament nights, Isco’s couches filled with the young Real Madrid players, Messi the dog was locked in one of the rooms after everybody cuddled with him. The small table was overflowing with snacks and there was beer in the fridge, in moderation as they still had a training session tomorrow morning. The sound of the TV was turned up and the radio was playing soft background music.

“You cheated!” Jesé pouted as the digital referee blew his whistle, the team in red cheering while the team in white slunk off to the tunnel.

“You are just a sore loser,” Illarra grinned. Jesé handed his controller over at Carva as per the tournament rules, loser gives up the controller, and perched on the armrest next to Nacho. He watched as Carva took on Illarra in the next match, stealing the bag of chips from Nacho when the other guy was distracted by the happening on the TV screen.

“Hey!” protested Nacho when he realised what had happened and Jesé shot him a grin, chips crumbles all over his teeth. Nacho grimaced and gave up on trying to get the bag back, turning back to the TV.

Jesé kept the bag to himself during the next two matches, chirping Illarra when he lost to Carva and making fun of Carva when he conceded a penalty against Casemiro.

He made grabby hands when Carva and Casemiro’s match ended in a draw, tournament rules stating that they both have to give up the controllers, and got Casemiro’s while Carva handed his over to Nacho. He abandoned the bag of chips to Illarra while he settled on the couch, giving Nacho a challenging look while he selected Manchester City as team.

“Oh, you are going down,” Nacho laughed as he choose Manchester United.

The match was a difficult one with a lot of cheating. Nacho nudging Jesé shoulder whenever he had a shot at goal, making Jesé mess up his attempts. He retaliated by kicking Nacho’s shin when his red clad players got close to his goal, Nacho yelping and his player putting his shot meters wide. Jesé sniggered as he directed his players towards the digital De Gea’s goal, dodging Nacho’s players’ desperate attempts to tackle his players.

“Fuck yes!” he shouted when his digital Aguero put the goal behind the digital De Gea and he did a little victory wriggle while the goal was replayed from several angles. Nacho huffed and when the game started back up, took revenge by having his digital Rooney dribble past all of Jesé’s defenders and fire the ball into the goal.

“Ha!” Nacho laughed while Jesé cursed at him.

The match ended with Nacho getting a last minute penalty, the digital Kompany receiving a red card for a clumsy tackle on Welbeck. Rooney calmly slotted it past Hart and the referee blew his whistle, ending the game.

“Ugh,” Jesé groaned as he handed Illarra his controller, ignoring Nacho’s smug looking face. He looked around the room, finally noticing that Alvaro and Isco were missing.

“Hey,” he asked Carva as a new match started. “Where are Isco and Alvaro?”

“Dunno,” Carva shrugged, his attention on the TV. “Isco said something about getting more drinks and I think Alvaro had to go to the toilet.”

“Hu,” Jesé muttered, curious now. He went to the kitchen to grab a new beer and wandered through Isco’s place, looking for its owner and Alvaro. He had noticed that they hung out together an awful lot ever since Isco transferred and they tended to disappear for a while during informal team meetings. The one time Jesé had asked Alvaro about it, he had turned red and mumbled some flimsy excuse under his breath before running off.

It was suspicious, now that Jesé thought about it, that Alvaro always disappeared with Isco or blew off Jesé because he already had plans with Isco. He would find out what that was all about tonight, Jesé nodded to himself as he glanced into Isco’s bedroom. It was empty besides Messi the dog curled up on his doggy pillow. He was asleep and Jesé softly closed the door as to not wake him up.

He continued towards the bathroom, remembering what Carva had said. He pushed the door open to the hallway and grinned when he spotted Alvaro. He opened his mouth to say something but paused when his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hallway and noticed that Alvaro had Isco pressed up against the wall, Isco’s hands fisted in Alvaro’s shirt. They were kissing, the wet, sloppy sounds reaching Jesé’s ear and he grimaced. He definitely didn’t need to hear or see this.

“So, this explains a lot,” he said, slightly amused when Alvaro and Isco jumped apart. They turned to look at him with wide eyes, clothes still rumpled and looking flushed.

“Uh,” Alvaro got out, making some gestures between him and Isco. “This, we, it isn’t…” he stuttered a little and Jesé took a swing from his beer to hide his grin.

“So you two aren’t together?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at them.

“No! Wait, yes, we,” Alvaro almost tripped over the words and Jesé had to repress a chuckle.

“Relax,” he smiled, taking pity on Alvaro. “I don’t mind if you are together or not.”

“You… you don’t?” Isco asked, not having spoken a word since Jesé walked in on them.

“Nah, I don’t,” Jesé shrugged before continuing with a leer. “You might want to be a bit more subtle about it though. Like not making out in a hallway while having a bunch of teammates over that can stumble across you guys any second.”

“Oh god, shut up,” Alvaro mumbled, dropping his head in his hands. Jesé snickered and took another sip from his beer. Isco straightened out his clothes and nudged Alvaro gently to prompt him to do the same.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Isco started, his tone serious and Jesé rolled his eyes.

“Duh,” he interrupted. “Of course I won’t tell anyone until you guys tell them.”

“You would do that for us? Keep quiet?” Alvaro asked and Jesé rolled his eyes again.

“Alvaro, you are my best friend but sometimes you are really stupid. Of course I would keep my mouth shut.”

Alvaro swept Jesé into a hug, Jesé barely keeping a good hold on his beer bottle, and whispered “thank you” in his ear. Jesé patted his back but smiled at him when Alvaro let him go.

“Okay, enough of this emotional business. Alvaro, come on, let’s kick some ass with FIFA. The rest are being mean to me,” Jesé tugged at Alvaro’s arm to make him come with him, Isco following them out of the hallway, chuckling.

 

 

 

  
**3.** **Marta Abril**  


It was a gorgeous autumn day in Madrid, the trees sporting leafs painted in red and orange and brown, their tips dipped in yellow. The sun was bright in the blue sky, a few white, fluffy clouds drifting by. The air still carried the summer warmth, keeping the mood of the inhabitants of the city light and happy.

 

Marta sang along with the radio while she parked her car in the underground garage, next to her brother’s Audi. She stopped the engine, the radio silenced too, and got out of the car, locking it behind her. She took the elevator to Alvaro’s floor, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. She checked her watch, knowing she was too early for their lunch date.

It was something they tried to do at least once a month, in order to catch up. It was hard to plan sometimes, with Alvaro’s hectic football lifestyle but they always managed to meet up.

The elevator doors opened and she dug around in her purse, taking out the keys to Alvaro’s apartment he had given her while walking to Alvaro’s door. She opened the door and went inside, following the sound of the TV to the living room.

She froze on the threshold, taking in the view of her brother kissing one of his teammates, Isco her mind supplied. They hadn’t noticed her and she slowly backed out of the room, taking a minute to decide what to do.

In the end she figured that she would observe them interacting with each other and went to open the front door again to let it slam shut.

“Alvaro! I’m early!” she called out and noisily dropped the keys in her purse. She walked into the living room again to find Alvaro and Isco sitting apart, still looking a bit ruffled and flushed. Marta smiled and Alvaro got up to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Isco, this is my sister, Marta. Marta, Isco,” Alvaro introduced them and Isco got up to offer Marta his hand. She shook it and Isco give her a wide smile.

“Do you mind if he comes with us?” Alvaro asked Marta, looking slightly worried.

“Of course not,” Marta shook her head, smiling again and took careful notice of the way Alvaro’s eyes lit up.

 

Alvaro drove them to the usual café, Marta opting to sit in the back. Isco fiddled a little with Alvaro’s radio until he found a music station that played mostly Spanish pop and Marta blinked when Alvaro didn’t tell him off. Even she wasn’t allowed to mess around with his radio stations.

They took a table near the window and Alvaro offered to order for them, leaving Marta alone with Isco for a few minutes.

“Are you and my brother good friends?” Marta asked once Alvaro was out of earshot.

“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” Isco nodded, glancing over his shoulder for a look at Alvaro. Marta hid her grin at how obvious he was behind her hand.

“How about you and Alvaro?” Isco asked when he focused on her again. He had a bright smile and happy brown eyes, Marta noted.

“We are really close. He is my little brother after all,” Marta smiled, her voice filled with fondness and she cast her own glance at Alvaro. He was signing an autograph for a little girl and pride filled Marta’s heart. She was so proud of her little brother.

“Not that little anymore,” Isco joked and Marta laughed.

“He hasn’t been my little brother for a long while now,” she replied, just when Alvaro returned, carrying a tray with streaming mugs and three blueberry muffins.

“Cheating on your diet?” Marta asked teasingly as she picked one of the muffins and the latte macchiato Alvaro had ordered for her.

“Yup,” Alvaro answered with a grin, popping the ‘p’, as he handed Isco his muffin and cappuccino. Marta shook her head, smiling, and sipped from her latte.

They started talking, about anything noteworthy happening since their last lunch date, Isco seamlessly fitting into the conversation and the gentle teasing between brother and sister. She caught Alvaro staring at Isco when Isco licked foam from his lips, utterly transfixed, and she hid her grin into her latte macchiato. These two were utterly gone for each other.

“And Alvaro, how is your love life?” she asked teasingly, taking great delight in the way he turned red and the not so subtle panicked look he shot Isco.

“It is, uh, going well,” he stuttered, looking back at Marta and thus missing the goofy grin Isco shot him. Marta caught it though and she smiled. She hadn’t missed how their hands kept brushing together during lunch, nor the way one would stare at the other until the conversation demanded their attention again.

“That is great to hear,” Marta answered, smiling at Alvaro and Isco. Isco smiled back, broad and happy, before looking back at Alvaro, his grin softening and turning fond. Marta observed and nodded to herself. Isco made a great boyfriend for her little brother and they made a good couple. She was happy for them. They could talk about it when they got back to Alvaro’s apartment but right now she would enjoy their company and her blueberry muffin.

 

 

 

  
**4.** **Sergi Gómez**  


Marc and Roberto’s hotel room was one of the bigger rooms and that was reason enough for it to become the place where small FIFA tournaments got hosted. It wasn’t unusual to find the beds crowded with players, chirping each other and trying to break the concentration of the guys hitting away at the controllers.

It always was a noisy happening and more often than not, a trainer had to tell them to quiet down or send them to bed when the tournaments took too long. Thankfully the coach saw the team bonding value in these tournaments and, as long as they stuck to their curfew and diet, he wouldn’t put a stop to them.

 

It was another loud FIFA night in Marc and Roberto’s room, with players making fun of each other, and Sergi observed everybody from his perch on the bed, occasionally nudging Roberto with his foot to disturb his concentration where he was playing together with Marc against Pablo and Saúl.

“Gómez!” Roberto exclaimed when Sergi nudged him a little hard, causing him to miss his shot. Sergi shot him a grin but withdrew his foot, deciding that he had tormented Roberto enough.

Marc and Roberto won their game, being crowned winners of the tournament for the night. They bowed graciously to the rest of the room standing on the bed, wearing crowns made of paper. They looked ridiculous and Sergi burst out laughing, leaning on Jordi who was standing next to him.

“All hail the king and queen of the tournament!” crowed Iker, bowing to Marc and Roberto after crowning them and jumping off the bed. Sergi copied him, bowing with a flourish. The rest of the room followed their example and when Sergi straightened up again, he had to laugh at the royal poses Marc and Roberto were striking.

“Who is the queen then?” Carva yelled, caused the room to laugh.

“Probably Sergi,” Oli answered, causing Roberto to flush and the room to laugh louder.

“Hey!” he protested. “I can grow a beard, you know!” he gestured at his sideburns while Marc was bent over, arms wrapped around his stomach as he laughed.

“Yeah, but your hair, mate,” Jordi grinned, waving a hand at Roberto. Roberto gasped and his hands flew to his hair, deeply insulted.

“No worries dear, I love your hair. You’re my queen after all,” Marc said, straightening up and slinging an arm around Roberto’s shoulders, nuzzling his hair before planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Get off,” Roberto whined, pushing Marc a little but not enough to dislodge him.

“You two are a proper king and queen all right,” Iker laughed before dismantling the PlayStation they had used for their FIFA tournament. It was nearing their curfew and the rest of the guys got into action, cleaning up the mess they had made.

“Hey, you wanted to show me something?” Jordi asked, nudging Sergi.

“Right! It is on my laptop though.”

“Go get it, I’ll meet you in my room,” Jordi grinned, pushing Sergi towards the door. He went grinning, saying good night to the rest of the guys. He crossed the hallway and fished his key out of his pocket, opening the door quietly, in case his roommate was already asleep.

“Oh, you’re still awake,” Sergi said when he noticed the lights on, Alvaro laying on top of his sheets, laptop open in his lap. Alvaro let out a little squeak at Sergi’s voice and almost slammed his laptop shut.

“Oh, hey, you are back early,” he got out, voice shaky, and Sergi arched his eyebrow at him, amused at his reaction. He noticed that Alvaro was shirtless and both his eyebrows rose.

“Just getting my laptop to show Jordi something,” he explained, going to his side of the room and grabbing his laptop.

“Alvaro?” a tin voice came out of the laptop and it sounded familiar to Sergi. He sneaked a look at Alvaro who opened his laptop again, showing a Skype window with a blurry view of Isco.

“Sorry, Sergi spooked me a little,” Alvaro answered, blushing red as he turned the laptop around so Isco could see Sergi.

“Hi Isco,” Sergi waved, ignoring the fact that Isco was also shirtless. Whatever his roommate and Isco got up to, it was none of his business.

“Hi Sergi!” Isco’s cheery reply came, clearly less embarrassed about this whole situation that Alvaro was.

“Right, so, I was going to show Jordi something,” Sergi patted his laptop. He was almost out the room when he thought of something. He turned back to Alvaro, who was still watching him.

“Eh, I should be back around curfew,” Sergi scratched the back of his head, feeling that his statement was a bit awkward but he wanted to avoid another situation like this. Alvaro nodded to show that he understood and Sergi smiled.

“Bye Sergi, say hi to Jordi for me!” came Isco’s tin voice from the laptop, easing the awkward atmosphere in the room a little.

“Will do!” Sergi called back before walking out of the room. He heard Alvaro start to say something but he quickly closed the door. He really didn’t want to know why Alvaro was Skyping with Isco, shirtless.

 

 

 

  
**5.** **Raphael Varane**  


Real Madrid’s training grounds were a hub of activity after training. Some players went home straight after their training session, but most players tended to stay behind, either to go to the gym for extra training or to practise one skill or another on the pitch.

It was partly training, partly socialising. Training sessions didn’t always give them the time to talk, Ancelotti was a strict coach, and private things couldn’t really be discussed in the dressing room. It was easier to talk while practising on the pitch in duos or while Sergio’s flamenco or Karim’s French rap blasted over the speakers in the gym.

 

“Fuck,” Raphael cursed to himself, stopping in the middle of the parking lot, on his way to his car. He checked his pockets again to be sure and repeated his curse. He had forgotten his phone in the dressing room.

He sighed and turned on his heels, entering the training building again. He waved at Karim when he walked by the gym, he had been training together with him, and Karim waved back, looking slightly questioning. Raphael made a phone symbol before pointing in the direction of the dressing room. The look of confusion on Karim’s face cleared and he grinned at Raphael.

Raphael shot him a grin back before continuing to the dressing room. It was devoid of people when he entered it and he figured Sergio and Nacho had already left. Two lockers were open, Isco’s and Alvaro’s, and two training shirts were on the ground near their lockers. Muffled sounds came from the showers which told Raphael where his two teammates were.

He told himself to focus and header over to his own locker. His phone was on the top shelf and he picked it up, checking for messages before sliding it in the pocket of his jeans. He closed his locker again and glanced at the showers. He could still hear muffled sounds, some that even sounded a little like groans, and the showers weren’t running. He remembered overhearing Alvaro asking Isco to stay behind to practise free kicks and Isco agreeing. Maybe one of them had injured themselves?

Raphael got curious and slightly worried. He inched closer to the showers, opening his mouth to call out, when a loud thud came from the showers.

“Fuck!” followed in a pained voice and Raphael hurried to the showers, worried now. He rounded the corner and the sight in front of him stopped him in his tracks.

Isco was pressed against the wall, only wearing his training shorts, cornered by an equally shirtless Alvaro. They were both sweaty, Alvaro’s dark hair plastered against his forehead, one of Isco’s hands tangled in the inky strands. They were kissing, although it looked more like Alvaro was devouring Isco, Raphael thought hysterically.

Isco moaned and pulled Alvaro closer, Raphael only noticing now that his other hand was on Alvaro’s ass.

Raphael ducked out of the showers, leaning against the wall behind him and slid down. He felt cold inside, his heart turned into ice, as the scene kept playing in front of his eyes.

It hurt. It hurt like hell to see Alvaro kissing someone else. He had had a crush on Alvaro for ages, although by now his feelings for Alvaro could hardly be called a crush anymore. And even though his rational side had told him that he had no chance with the tall striker, his heart had held on to the slight thread of hope the longer Alvaro stayed single.

And now that hope was crushed, pulverised, right in front of him.

Raphael unsteadily got to his feet when the showers were turned on and left the dressing room. He bumped into Karim on his way outside and he mumbled an apology.

“It is nothing,” he heard Karim laugh good-natured. Raphael tried to smile but all he managed was a grimace. Karim stopped laughing and stepped closer to Raphael.

“Hey, Rapha, are you all right?” he sounded concerned, putting one hand on Raphael’s shoulder. Raphael looked up, meeting Karim’s eyes for a second before averting his gaze.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, shrugging Karim’s hand off his shoulder. “I just need to go home.”

**  
**

**+1.   Nacho Fernández**

The elevator was empty besides him and Nacho hummed along with the cheesy elevator music. Most of his teammates were still downstairs, enjoying dessert but he had left early, his phone almost constantly vibrating in his pocket.

He took it out to check his messages, chuckling to himself as he scrolled through them. They were all from the same sender, getting more demanding with each message and Nacho rolled his eyes as he read the last one.

“Impatient,” he muttered to himself, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing the floor he was staying at. He stepped out of the small box, his phone once again vibrating. The doors closed behind him, cutting off the music.

He headed towards the room he shared with Isco, still humming the elevator music under his breath. He couldn’t help it, it was a catchy song and it was familiar, although he couldn’t recall the name of the song from the top of his head.

He slid the key out of his pocket as his phone vibrated again. He opened the door, closing it behind him and locking it to be sure.

“So impatient,” he called out as he walked further into the room. He heard a scoffing sound coming from the bed, followed by a snort and he grinned. He glanced at the bed for a few seconds, admiring the view, before crossing the room to the big window, drawing the curtains shut. Next he took out his iPod speakers from his bag and hooked his iPod up, selecting a playlist filled with Spanish pop music and hit play.

He turned back towards the bed, a slow smirk spreading while he took in the sight. Isco had Alvaro pinned underneath him, straddling his thighs to keep him down. Alvaro’s hands had found their way under Isco’s shirt, running up and down his sides, making Isco shudder. Isco had his hands next to Alvaro’s head, bracing himself as he leaned down to kiss Alvaro’s lips, his neck, trailing down to his exposed collarbone.

“What took you so long?” Isco asked, Alvaro’s shirt blocking his progress down his body. He tugged impatiently on Alvaro’s shirt until the striker got the hint, sitting up a little to take his shirt off, Isco now sitting in his lap.

“Well, someone had to make sure that no one suspects anything and the way you guys left? Not subtle. Not subtle at all,” Nacho answered while taking off his shoes and his shirt. He climbed on the bed behind Isco, pressed up against his back as he wound an arm around the midfielder. He kissed his way up the side of Isco’s neck, nipping a little at the skin to get a moan out of him.

“Boring,” Isco breathed before turning to catch Nacho’s lips in a kiss. It was sloppy, involving a lot of tongue and Nacho loved every second of it.

“You know,” Nacho panted after they broke apart, whispering in Isco’s ear. “It isn’t fair that you are still wearing a shirt,” he bit down on the earlobe, pulling another moan out of him, and slid his hands underneath Isco’s shirt, pulling it up.

Isco helpfully raised his arms up so Nacho could tug his shirt off and Nacho tossed it off the bed, not looking where it landed. Alvaro pulled Isco down in a kiss and Nacho took the opportunity to kiss Isco’s neck, following his spine down slowly.

“Fuck,” Isco groaned, voice wrecked already. Nacho smiled against his skin and stopped right above Isco’s jeans. He ran his fingers over the waistband, teasingly dipping them inside for a few seconds.

He frames Isco’s hips, pressing close again, rolling his hips forward to rub his groin against Isco’s ass and Isco gasped, leaning back against Nacho, head dropped into Nacho’s shoulder. Nacho leaned down, glancing at Alvaro and holding his gaze as he nipped at Isco’s throat, finding the right spots to turn Isco boneless.

“Fuck,” he heard Alvaro whisper and Nacho grinned, sucking a little on Isco’s pulse point before gently pushing the smaller man off Alvaro. Isco went willingly, rolling on his side, propping his head up with one arm to watch them.

Nacho leaned down to kiss Alvaro and Alvaro responded enthusiastically, one hand cupping the back of Nacho’s head to pull him closer. Nacho shifted a little, straddling Alvaro better so that their groins were pressed together and Alvaro broke away from the kiss to moan, his long throat exposed as he threw his head back. Nacho bit his lip, taking Alvaro in. He was gorgeous like this, spread out on the cream coloured sheets, eager and horny.

“Damn,” Nacho whispered, running his hands over Alvaro’s chest, rubbing his thumbs over his nipples. He watched, fascinated, as the nipples hardened, the skin around them rising with goose bumps. He slowly glided his fingers down Alvaro’s sides, listening to the hitch in Alvaro’s breath.

He leaned down again, slowly, to brush his lips over Alvaro’s, tongue sliding out to lick at them, before delving inside for a deep kiss. Alvaro’s hands were pulling him closer, his hips rolling up and Nacho ground his groin down, creating friction.

“Shit,” Nacho got out after breaking away from the kiss, his voice already hoarse. Alvaro’s lips were puffy and shining with saliva, his big brown eyes darkened with lust. Nacho glanced to the side, meeting Isco’s equally dark gaze and a small shudder ran down Nacho’s spine, excitement pooling in his gut.

He reached out, tugging at Isco to get him closer, pulling him into a dirty kiss.

“We should spoil him a little,” Nacho whispered in Isco’s ear when he pulled away, his eyes flickering between Alvaro and Isco and he got a filthy smile as answer from Isco.

Nacho moved off Alvaro, creating space for Isco so they could both kiss their way down Alvaro’s chest agonisingly slow. Nacho pressed a hand down on Alvaro’s hips when they started bucking, getting a whine in response. He nipped at Alvaro’s nipple in reply and Alvaro yelped. The music was a good idea, Nacho thought fleetingly before focusing on his task at hands.

“Is the door locked? Don’t want anyone to walk in on us,” Isco asked when they reached Alvaro’s jeans, making quick work of the belt and fly.

“No worries,” Nacho answered, kissing Isco quickly before pulling down Alvaro’s jeans and boxers. “I locked it.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Characters mentioned:
> 
> Jesé's part:  
> Illarra = Asier Illarramendi  
> Carva = Daniel Carvajal
> 
> Sergi Gómez' part:  
> Marc = Marc Muniesa  
> Roberto = Sergi Roberto  
> Pablo = Pablo Sarabia  
> Saúl = Saúl Ñíguez  
> Jordi = Jordi Amat  
> Iker = Iker Muniain  
> Oli = Oliver Torres


End file.
